I finally understand what Edgar Allan Poe meant when he said,
“I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.”
Because to be honest,
attempting to be myself in the world
is such an oddity
that whenever I speak
people adorn themselves with a certain look.
It's a look I cannot understand,
and it burdens me with a plague of thoughts,
but I know no normal human being thinks twice,
there's no question,
no week of pondering the meaning,
no doubt.
So I've decided to stop wondering about humanity,
and instead travel down the rabbit hole of what I am,
because I know I'm not human.
No human feels like this obsessed about this,
fails to assimilate into what the world is.
They are born with the basic knowhow,
and the people around to guide them in the ways of personhood.
But, I,
I was raised with a question mark in my blood and that was wrong of me.
I never learned how to accept what was in front of me.
I was raised to not receive what was said.
Because that's what a good child does,
and for the life of me I couldn't be good.
So here I am,
finally calling out the one who's writing my life.
I'm doing what I do best and asking relentless questions.
Like, why do you think everyone hates you?
Why do you feel so othered?
Why are you the way you are?
And why do you think it's right and unchangeable?
The final boss in this game always has and always will be me.
And I think I have the advantage here,
because I know her better than anyone on this Earth.
But I don't think she's ready for this battle.
My fingers tremble with the excitement
of the destruction of this society of one.
I'm so used to decay.
And I plan to win.
Afterall,
how else can you rebuild yourself
if not to tear down everything that built you up?

BY: J.M.M.POWELL

© J.M.M.Powell